


Yes, Eggsy

by 4vrAFangirl



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Harry Hart Lives, M/M, Post-Canon, perceived character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4vrAFangirl/pseuds/4vrAFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy was doing his best, really. Afterall there was only so bloody long that one could uselessly pine over their dead mentor, before it started to be unbecoming of a gentleman, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes, Eggsy

**Author's Note:**

> Started out based on an 'imagine your OTP.." post on Tumblr about person A being stood up by their bf on a date and person B swooping in to save the day pretending to be their bf for the sake of everyone around who's been feeling sorry for person A. Obviously because I seem to be on an #angst-with-a-happy-ending kick at the moment I decided to make it a post-canon, Eggsy grieving over Harry being dead fic, and it kind of took on a life of it's own from there.
> 
> Want a peek behind the scenes of writing these stories? Got a prompt or idea for a fic you'd like to see? Drop me a note on my Tumblr: [afangirlreadsfics](http://www.afangirlreadsfics.tumblr.com)

Eggsy was doing his best, really. Afterall there was only so bloody long that one could uselessly pine over their dead mentor, before it started to be unbecoming of a gentleman, right? Hell he didn't know, Harry probably could have told him, but then Harry was gone and the reason behind the whole mess wasn't he?

Harry fucking Hart swooping in like some kind of real-life knight on a white bloody horse. And Eggsy had never needed that, never asked for it. All he wanted was to get out of jail so he could continue to try an' protect his mum and baby sister, didn't he? Which Harry did, and then some. Harry Hart gave him a chance to prove to himself and everyone else that he could be more than he was, Harry had believed in him, trusted him, and Eggsy had been helpless to do anything but fall ass over teakettle in love with him.

For all the good it'd done him. Harry was gone now, and Eggsy had never once even thanked him properly for springing him after his reckless joyride, let alone everything that followed. And it wasn't as though there hadn't been plenty of opportunities...

Maybe that was why his feeble attempts to date anyone who bore even a slight resemblance to the older man seemed to fall somewhere between penance and a self-inflicted punishment. Somewhere deep down he knew he didn't deserve this: being stood up-again. The impatience of the server when he begged a little more time once more rather than face what they both knew-that his date wasn't just late, he was a no-show. The pitying looks that he was beginning to attract from customers at other nearby tables who had waited and were now getting their dinners while the sad, nicely dressed and well-mannered young man sat alone nursing his now watered down vodka- the ice long since melted...

Roxy would- _will_ -give him hell for this when she finds out. He's not the pleb Charlie and so many others always said he was, and for god-sakes he's a Kingsmen now, with plenty of reason to respect himself more than this. A gentleman wouldn't do this to their date, let alone their boyfriend. He should break up with him, he thinks solemnly, if not showing up without bothering to call isn't the asshole's way of doing that for him Eggsy thinks staring at his tumbler with a heavy sigh. Harry wouldn't do this, he thinks before he can stop himself from doing so, prompting him to order a new drink.

"Make it two," a voice that's just beside him tells the server, and Jesus how did anyone manage to get that close without him noticing? He's supposed to be a goddamn spy. 

"I am so sorry to have kept you waiting so long, love," the voice continues, kissing the top of his head- _and what the bleedin' fuck?_ Eggsy looks up on the verge of saying something because whoever this person is they've got the wrong man, and what right do they have to sound so much like that voice he's dreamed of and that has haunted his nightmares for months now? To sound so much like... Eggsy's whole body freezes. "Traffic was a nightmare," Harry offers by way of explanation as if that's supposed to mean something, though it's loud enough it's likely for the benefit of the diners around them that had been watching Eggsy, while taking the seat across from him with a small smile.

Eggsy looks down suddenly suspicious of his drink, because he might need Merlin to duplicate whatever it is he's been slipped-this is a helluva good hallucination. Harry's got a heck of a scar he never had before, which is interesting, because Eggsy's never imagined that detail before. It's just shy of his left eye tracking across the temple where the raised skin and scar tissue are keeping his hair from growing back. And that's gotta frustrate the fuck out of 'im, Eggsy thinks, for a guy who likes and prides himself on keeping everything in order. 

But no, no it doesn't, Harry ain't frustrated by anything, he reminds himself, because this ain't real. He's alone in a posh restaurant he actually had to make a reservation for, at a time when he knew he would be home from any missions, being stood up again by yet another shite boyfriend, and now-hallucinating. _Fuckin' fantastic._

"Go away," he whispers forcing himself to continue staring at the tablecloth, because nice as it would be to stare it's not as if he hasn't got Harry's face memorized by now, burned into him, and why torture himself further?

"Is that really what you want," the hallucination asks patiently, voice laced with concern. A hand starts to reach across the table for his, before halting nervously in the middle as if he'd suddenly thought better of the comforting gesture. 

It wouldn't matter if it hadn't stopped, Eggsy thinks. The touch would still feel as empty and leave him as cold as every other time Eggsy's tried to imagine it before now. He's never made the slip up of doing so in public where anyone else could see before though. It's a good thing this restaurant doesn't have cameras anywhere near his table, if Merlin knew he were seeing his dead mentor he'd almost certainly be benched from any upcoming missions, and Eggsy would truly go insane. Missions are all he has left now-the opportunity to immerse and distract himself, and maybe, just maybe make Harry proud of him, to actually earn the faith his mentor had had in him.

"Don't be daft, you know it ain't," he mumbles softly, one hand clenching over his knee, trying to bring himself out of whatever trip he's having and back to the present-the present without Harry -but it's not working, _and why should it?_ Eggsy doesn't really want a future without Harry, not if he's got a choice.

"Why 'you here then," Eggsy asks, a little surprised the people who had been shooting him pitying looks before aren't more interested or scared now he's talking to what to everyone except him must appear to be an unoccupied chair.

"Because you need me and I care about you, Eggsy," Harry replies simply, and Christ, his voice sounds so good, Eggsy aches knowing it will eventually have to come to an end, the dream will fade away as it always has, and he will be left here, alone.

"No," Eggsy replies, shaking his head even as Harry's simple response echoes in his ears. "I needed you months ago, but you left for Kentucky and never came back. You said you'd sort the mess out, but you never came back," Eggsy continues trying to bring himself to be angry about it rather than let the tears he can feel welling up within him win his conflicting emotions.

"I'm sorry," the hallucination replies softly, and even the brief glance up through his eyelashes is enough for Eggsy to see he means it. Although of course he does, he's some kind of projection on the part of his subconscious, innit he? This Harry will tell him anything he might want to hear, whatever his grieving mind can come up with to help comfort him.

"I'm trying to move on, Harry," Eggsy replies sadly, missing the older man's slightly disappointed expression as he stares at the tablecloth again. "But there ain't exactly a lot of men left like you, much less ones lining up for a guy like me."

"Some might say you're not really trying too hard," Harry points out. "I would hardly have stood you up."

"You did though," Eggsy protests. "Maybe you didn't mean to, but you did. You left me waiting, hurt me worse than anyone ever has leavin' me, a lot more than this idiot, and you and I- we wasn't even dating or nothin'," Eggsy sniffs softly, still fighting back the urge to tear up. 

"I should've seen it coming," Eggsy continues shaking his head. "It's always been the same story for me. Everybody I love leaves or leaves me a little more broken somehow," he whispers brokenly, suddenly not so sure whether the second drink the waiter is bringing over is a good idea, or if perhaps a few dozen would be better. "But you- you really did a number.."

There's a pause for a fraction of a second before the dead man across from him says, "You were in love with me?"

Eggsy looks up now, he can't help but to, giving Harry an incredulous look, because that tone of surprise is just bullocks, innit it? "You're taking the piss," the young man replies shaking his head. "You're some kind of product of my grief and wishful thinkin'," he says, waving a careless hand in his direction. 

"Harry's dead. He's dead, and he ain't never coming back," Eggsy says the words sounding practiced, as though he's told himself this many a time before. "I know that. I'm not that far gone, yet. I'm making it up- you being here. You're a part of me, so you know there is no 'were', just 'is' and I'm gone for him. Wouldn't be such a fuckin' wreck if I wasn't now would I," he asks a bit bitterly.

"Eggsy-" the dead man begins softly. "I lo-"

"I can't keep bringin' you back like this, Harry," Eggsy interjects quickly talking over the other's sentence before his imagination makes this any harder on him. "-'urts too much, don't it?"

"I'm sorry," Eggsy tells the server as he returns with his new drink before his hallucination can offer up anything further. "I've changed my mind, I'll just take the check whenever you can bring it over," he tells him. The server seems to pause a moment considering him, and setting the second glass in front of imaginary Harry, looking at him too for confirmation as Harry nods and the server leaves to get the tab. It takes Eggsy a moment, too long for someone who's job is to be among other skills observant, before he figures it out.

"He could see you," Eggsy manages flabbergasted, still hardly daring to believe it, the words coming out uncertain, unclear as to whether it's a statement or a question. A sad frown forms ever so slightly at the corner of Harry's mouth as he nods. 

"You're really here," the young man marvels, one hand reaching across the table to grasp Harry's hand where it still lies between them, threading his fingers through it to reassure himself this isn't a dream, a joke, or a really fucking good hallucination, but no, Harry's actually here.

There's a million things that Eggsy has imagined saying to Harry since he died, a million things that have been slowly eating away at him to think about. And really, Eggsy's always thought if he had the chance to do it over again he wouldn't allow himself to be too chicken to tell Harry how he felt or at least let him know he was interested in something more than a pupil-mentor relationship. But now he realizes what he's just said, well he wants nothing so much as to run, or suddenly melt into the floor because, "Fuuuuuck," he exhales letting his head fall onto the with a distinctly undignified and resounding thud.

Eggsy tries to let go, to let his hand slide out and away from Harry's, but finds he can't. The older man is clasping it back, keeping their fingers threaded together. He doesn't say anything for such a long time, Eggsy starts to worry that maybe he was wrong, and Harry is just as dead and not here as he was an hour ago when he'd first got here. But he still feels his hand, and when he slowly raises his head again to check: Harry's still there, just waiting for his attention again before speaking.

"I really am sorry to have kept you waiting so long," Harry replies his voice that same patient, even timbre that Eggsy has always loved, and desperately longed to hear even just once more this last year. "I came back as soon as the hospital would let me leave," he continues, but Eggsy's still staring, barely hearing what is being said because everyone he loves leaves, or disappoints and hurts him in the end, but nobody's ever come back before.

"-To Kingsmen," Eggsy says, because that's the real reason Harry's back isn't it, he thinks trying to let himself down gently, before Harry does.

"Maybe," Harry concedes with a half nod. _Maybe_? "They've already filled my old position, with as I understand it: a remarkable Kingsmen agent," Harry smiles a bit fondly, warmth reflected in those deep brown eyes that Eggsy would like nothing more than to dive into and get lost in.

"Maybe," Eggsy repeats again shell-shocked, temporarily ignoring the compliment, because even if he gets to keep the title of Galahad, Harry _not_ returning to Kingsmen at all when he was so good at what he did, when he's the reason for Eggsy being there in the first place, seems unthinkable.

"You need me more," Harry shrugs as if it's a simple as that. _Which is crap innit,_ because nothing is that simple- the world went to hell in a hand basket and everything is still slowly working on rebuilding and restabalizing, and there's always another maniac trying to take over or save the world from somethin'... Harry's a great agent, and Kingsmen needs all hands on deck. If Harry's alive, and his body up to the task, then he should be- he **belongs** with Kingsmen.

But he wasn't lying when he said he was a wreck. He can't continue like this. No matter how good an agent he might be, Eggsy can't go on like this forever-diving into one mission after the other to keep himself from thinking, and throwing himself into meaningless relationships with poor imitations of the real thing when he has to be at home or is left idle. Something has to give, and he won't allow it to happen in the field when it could cost someone else's life, so he lets it slowly eat away at him instead. "I do," he chokes out softly, nodding guiltily at his neediness.

"You love me," Harry says, and it's not a question anymore, and Eggsy nods because he can't bring himself to say anything more, hasn't figure out how to make his mouth work again, before finally swallowing around his heart which seems to have jumped up into his throat.

"Yes, Harry," he replies, and the older man smiles softly.

"And I, you, Eggsy-more than I can say. Well, I suppose a gentleman would call his boyfriend and tell him he'd like to start seeing other people, first," Harry replies, and Eggsy's head is spinning because did Harry really just say what he thought he did? What he's been dreaming of hearing from him ever since he realized his own feelings for the older man, but Harry's still talking as if this should have been perfectly obvious, and maybe it was. Eggsy so unaccustomed and distrustful of love and affection, so used to it being used to manipulate and guile others he didn't trust what was right in front of him. And thank _God_ Harry isn't dead so he can rectify that error, to hell with his on again, off again boyfriend who's never held a candle to Harry Hart.

"But seeing as he stood you up," the older man continues with a slightly pinched look of disgust following these words as he fishes the money for the bill from his pocket and tucks it in the fold for their server, still grasping Eggsy's hand as he stands, urging the young man to his feet as well. "Fuck him," he concludes all but dragging them out of the restaurant, although Eggsy's hardly complaining; he would follow this man to the ends of the Earth.

Eggsy is torn between surprise at hearing Harry Hart swear ( _had he ever done that with him before?_ ) and arousal because of the protective sentiment, and possessive way Harry has refused to let go of Eggsy's hand since he'd first laced their fingers together together to reassure himself the formerly 'dead' man was real.

He thinks about telling Harry he doubts that a gentleman uses such language, but instead leans in towards the other's body as they walk down the sidewalk to offer up, "If it's all the same 'arry, I'd much rather fuck you," which makes the older man halt in his tracks and abruptly shove Eggsy against the nearest wall with an almost feral growl, descending upon his lips like he's intent on devouring them, hands sliding under Eggsy's suit to trace the lines of his body through his shirt.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Eggsy registers other people walking by them, some tsks and scandalized mutterings dimly registering in his ears, but he can't be bothered, and neither it seems can Harry. The whine that the older man draws out of him as he nips at his lower lip is downright _indecent_ , but he can't help it. He has wanted this for so long, and for many months grieved what he would never have, he could hardly restrain himself now if he wanted to.

"If it's all the same to you, Eggsy," Harry replies huskily, impressively not as breathless as Eggsy is at the moment, although hearing the older man say his name like that steals any remaining oxygen he had in his lungs. "I've got a lot more in mind than **_a_** fuck."

"Ya' mean-" Eggsy starts because now, at the risk of ruining the moment, and even as his head is really because _Jesus, Harry swearin' is nearly enough to make him cum on the spot_ , he has to know if Harry means he has a different kind of act in mind for the two of them, or if he means that there will be many to come, or he's suggesting he's some kind of other worldly lover- _and honestly Eggsy wouldn't doubt that..._

Harry's reply comes in a breath, hot against the shell of Eggsy's ear, cutting off any further thought, as one of his thighs presses in and makes it's way between the shorter man's legs to apply some pressure to the the other's obvious arousal, though sadly without the friction Eggsy would kill for right now. "I mean to ruin you for anyone but me," he whispers so possessively Eggsy can't help but shiver.

"Pretty sure you already hav'," Eggsy manages, trying to twist a little against Harry's leg, desperate for some kind of relief- yesterday. Harry draws his leg back, but offers Eggsy his lips again instead, hands slowly slowing their progress roaming over him as though Harry is suddenly remembering where they are, and the kind of show they are putting on for passersby.

"I got your house," Eggsy blurts out anxiously as they pull apart and start to fix themselves up a bit before they continue to wherever Harry was leading them.

"I hoped if anything ever happened to me that you would," Harry smiles indulgently, not commenting on how Eggsy's suddenly become a bit less certain and shy now they aren't acting on instinct and passion. Honesty, it only endears him more to the older man.

"Well I'm givin' you back the keys, so you can't let nothin' happen to you again, got it?" Harry laughs, and Eggsy smiles a little And whatever the number of years between them they are both adults; they know the kinds of lives they lead and how ridiculous the thought is, but if it makes Eggsy happy, Harry doesn't have to think twice about it, he nods.

"Yes, Eggsy," Harry replies with a small happy smile.


End file.
